


Tales from the Desert

by longlostintentions



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU, Creepy Cecil, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Strex Kevin, gratuitous lack of hair cutting, needles and brainwashing drugs, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlostintentions/pseuds/longlostintentions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of drabbles I wrote as requests for people. Will probably add more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haircut?

_**carlos never cutting his hair b/c of cecil. Go.** _

 

* * *

 

 

 ****“Cecil, _please”_ he prodded, rummaging the drawers for scissors or a buzzer, almost all of which seemed to disappear from the house practically the moment he moved in. Telly was nowhere to be found, and he didn’t really trust anyone else in this town with scissors that close to his head, except Cecil. Oh well, winter was coming, and he heard they could be brutal in the desert, maybe it was for the best anyways.


	2. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had a life before Strex, you know?

_**DID YOU SAY SOMETHING ABOUT PRE-STREX KEVIN DRABBLE?** _

* * *

 

 

One less than perfect part of their otherwise perfect little part of the desert, was that nights in the Winter got too cold to walk home like he did. The warmth of the apartment was almost stifling, but still welcome. Not a second after the latch caught was he swept into the arms of a man quite a bit bigger than him. He gasped out a ‘hello’ before being tugged lightly by the chin into a kiss. The man, his boyfriend Liam, parted about as quickly as he’d arrived and went into the kitchen.  
“Dinner is on the stove, I didn’t burn it today!” He smiled proudly. That prize winning smile. If he ever got one of his books published, that is the smile you would see on the inside of the jacket cover preceeding a short but humorous bio. All in all, Kevin was absolutely smitten with that smile.   
“Good boy~” he cooed and went to inspect.  
“Where’s Trish?” Liam asked with concern. “They didn’t make her stay late? On date night?”   
Almost as if she were reading their thoughts, and they were often convinced she actually did have telekinetic powers (but of course that was ridiculous, it was not only highly illegal but highly dangerous to acquire telekinetic powers without permission from the public via petition with COMPLETE consensus), Intern Trish was walking through the door. Intern Trish was walking up and kissing them both hello. Maybe intra-office (intra-station?) romances were discouraged but he couldn’t help it. She shared his ideas of where the station should go in their projected future. She shared Liam’s love of poetry (he was an English professor and unpublished author).   
“I’m sorry! They made me stay and finish some paperwork…. Dinner and then… Dancing right?” Trish dropped her bag at the table. They had planned on visiting The Sandstorm Community Rec Center and Dance Hall for their Throwback Thursdays dance night (and happy hour). Both of her boyfriends opened their mouths to respond and both were interrupted by a phone ringing. Kevin went to the table and fished the phone out of his bag, looking at the screen which displayed a picture of a Labrador puppy and little spotted fawn snuggling together on a patch of green grass, and below it the word “Work”. He accidentally put on his Radio Voice when answering, everyone noticed.   
“Hello? Oh Ellen its so nice to hear from you so late!” Trish made an exaggerating gagging motion and Liam tried to hide his smile. They both noticed when their boyfriend’s face fell, and when the rest of his eyes opened in shock. They heard the quaver in his voice, even as he tried to keep it steady and friendly.   
“W-Well… Thank you Ellen that… That’s very… Informative. Very. Very considerate…. Yes I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow then….” he hung up the phone, then in an appropriately dramatic sweep slammed it back onto the table making the other two jump and move towards him cautiously.  
“Kev, honey, what’s wrong…?” Liam asked bravely. He turned towards them, all his eyes ablaze. He very rarely looked livid, he said he didn’t like feeling so angry.   
“Ellen informed me that… Management is.. Considering giving up ownership of the station…  To none other than Strex…” he spat the word like it was filthy, then immediately apologized for cursing. It wasn’t becoming, he said. Trish was working up to a slowly dawning panic.  
“But they… They can’t! We’ve got to do something….” She sounded so helpless, he softened and cupped her face, hugging her.  
“We will… We’ll stop them or go out fighting…” he didn’t sound as confident, but it was better than nothing. Liam, who didn’t quite understand the politics of radio business, tried to offer comfort by wrapping his arms around both of them.   
“Lets… Lets worry about this later, let’s not ruin date night,” Kevin pleaded. They all agreed, but they all knew date night was already thrown off kilter. In the end, they stayed home. There was always next week for dancing, right?

 


	3. Breaking Point

**_Lets go for some pure angst: The Moment Kev broke for good_ **

* * *

 

The day Strex took over the station officially was devastating for both the host and the intern. But the quieter, passive, less fatal kind of devastation. The one that was only barely considered treason by their new management. At least at first. But then they got too angry, and too outward with their anger. Snarky comments, a slip of the finger over the “Air” button when management was in the middle of an announcement, “forgetting” bits of mandatory broadcast, small acts of resistance which was all they could do. Now they were being watched more and more from under the beehive (complete with actual buzzing noises emitting from it) and horn-rimmed glasses of some new station manager named Lauren Mallard. Now they were being noticed. She had tried thinly disguised kind words, talks of how she used to be just like them, afraid… No… Concerned. Concerned for her business’ well being when Strex had come into her life. But those fears had been allayed, and now she’s never been happier! When that failed she tried taking him out for lunch, where he absolutely saw her slipping something into his food. He was pretty sure she hadn’t even tried to hide it. That had failed too. They had tried driving by his house, following him wherever he went, finding reasons to come to his door and let him know, he knew, that they were watching and they would never go away. It was starting to degrade his mind, he was losing sleep, but Liam and Trish told him they’d stick right by him and ultimately that tactic had failed too. Now, he was stuck in a room, strapped to a chair. They had hoped it wouldn’t come to “excessive coercion”, and here Lauren used her fingers to form air quotes, which seemed pretty contradictory to her facade. He didn’t have time to think about it, there was an IV going into his arm. There was a syringe of… Something. Something flowing through the tube now and… And it felt GOOD. Really good. It was sedating, relaxing his muscles. Too much. Too much. There was a door opening. There was Liam. There was Trish. He smiled widely at them. They looked… Concerned? No…. Then there was Lauren, confronting them. Saying something he could barely register. Something about a riot, starting a revolt. They were shouting, they were shouting for him. But he couldn’t say anything, he could barely register what they were saying. Then, there they weren’t. Gone. Gone for “re-education” Lauren was saying, no air quotes. They weren’t coming back. She didn’t say it, he just knew. And there he was, laughing. Laughing instead of crying, feeling all the stress and fear burbling up from his throat in choking laughter. He didn’t notice her sticking another syringe into the IV, but he did notice something fading from his memory. He can’t remember why he’s laughing, or why his chest feels so cavernous.  
“How are you feeling, Kevin?” she asked sweetly, conquer in her voice. He heard none of it though.  
“I feel….” he caught his breath and laid back into the chair, smiling. “I feel _wonderful_ ”


	4. Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean it's just kind of hard to tell sometimes.  
> Based off kind of an AU.

_**Fluff** _

 

* * *

 

 

They lived in a strange amalgamation of a town, not quite whole but not quite in shambles. There weren't many other residents, if they could be called that. They had picked up the remainder of their lives and formed a kind of stability after everything. Mostly, people kept to themselves, and to help with some semblance of sanity, they routinely checked in with the makeshift radio station. Between Cecil's witty but overt pessimism and Kevin's false optimism, there truly wasn't much variation in the morning and evening broadcasting. People still enjoyed it, not to mention people were invested in the delicious drama that seeped from behind the studio between the two hosts. Everyone could tell there was SOMETHING going on between them, whatever “something” was, but nobody could tell if they hated or adored each other (most people figured both, in equal measure). It wasn't rare anymore for them to reach out to each other on air in passing, with backhanded compliments and flirtation, accompanied by casual insults and disgust. It was also not rare to see them together off air, on the street or in a cafe, bantering rudely and people watching. It left the other residents starving for more, or at least most of them. It also had the effect of a friendly rivalry between fans of the morning listeners and the nighttime listeners. Sometimes, someone would be attracted to one individual host's magnetism and get jealous. It was on such an occasion that a very strange thing happened; that somebody discovered exactly what that “something” was.

It was Kevin who was on the receiving end of the verbal assault. How had he the audacity to insult Cecil like that (they didn't say exactly what he'd said, which meant it could be any number of things really. He was feeling playful that morning). How he was pathetic for trying to get attention from Cecil like that. How he wasn't even that good looking, and Cecil was obviously just playing with him. He usually tried to let it run off him, after all he knew people could get a little fanatic. But this guy wouldn't leave him alone, no matter how many insults he slung back or how quickly he tried to duck away down alleys. Finally, in a desperate moment, he's backed into a corner and prepared for the worst. Suddenly Cecil, who always seems to have an eye on everything going on around town, steps out seemingly from nowhere (theres a very good chance it was from nowhere, really), and is the embodiment of cooly livid. His charcoal eyes are on fire, and the deep glow around him is pulsing vividly. He approaches the man who stares in something between fear and reverence, making disgust obvious on his idol's face. Without warning he grabs the man around the neck, loosely, but with startling force.   
“I think maybe it would be in your best interest to apologize to my boyfriend,” he says, and exposes his pointed teeth in a mockery of a playful smile, all razors and glass. He pauses and then adds as an afterthought.  
“And you're wrong, he's actually the best looking person in a town full of irradiated barely humans. If we weren't in polite company I'd --” he doesn't get to finish his taunt before the man breaks free of his grasp and tears out of the alleyway. Kevin takes a moment to compose himself and pretends to brush himself off as he stands, leering over at him.  
“That was awfully generous of you....~” he goads, lilting a little. Cecil doesn't back down, or derail, or put away his smile like he expects. Instead he moves closer, shrugging but continuing to bait.

“I wanted to make him uncomfortable. And you too.” The arm he puts around him is protective though, and neither of them say it.

“I'm not sure you're quite there, but nice try.”

“I disagree, I think I'm having the exact effect I wanted,” he punctuates it with a glaring flash of his pointed teeth followed by a kiss which may have turned into a gentle bite, because they had to keep up the facade at least a little.

 

 


End file.
